Get Back To Work!

"But I don't want you working, Momma! I want you here!" How can you hear that plea/demand and not have your heart break a little bit? Could it really be 4 short years ago that the little dude became my full time job? Never mind that he's now in pre-school three days a week and playcare two of those afternoons. Nevermind that this new schedule of mine hasn't impacted his schedule in the slightest (yet). Kiddo is nervous about me returning to work, because it's human nature to be nervous about change. He knows that some moms work, but he's never known his mom to go to work. Up until a few months ago, Dad going to work meant he left on Sunday night and we didn't see him again until Friday night. So, yeah, the kid's a little worried about what this change is going to mean for him.

I had been prepping kiddo for the possibility of me working. I knew he was ready - he has become increasingly independent ("I can do it myself!"), he's started asking why he can't go to pre-school every day, and he's a very active, social little fellow. He has more needs than his introverted, introspective momma can fill. As much as he may protest, I suspect the kid gets sick of looking at me some days. Granted, this job came up unexpectedly, and a little quicker than anticipated, but it's part-time, flexible hours doing something I love (baking). It was impossible to pass up. And I sure as hell knew I was ready to go back to work. The term "stir-crazy" comes to mind. Heavy on the "crazy". So we're transitioning to a lifestyle that will work better for everyone involved, but it doesn't come without some growing pains. For all his rambunctiousness, he's a pretty sensitive kid. He's one of those children who just feels everything intensely - joy, sadness, anger, fear. Every change, every stage has been accompanied by sleep disturbances and reactive behaviour. All I know how to do at this point (in my sleep-deprived state) is continue to be honest with him about what he can expect, be there when I say I'm going to be there, and cuddle him to death when the opportunity arises. And hope to all hell that I'm not going to screw him up. But really, I could screw him up just as easily at home as I could at work. I may as well make some money while I'm doing it.